Has your heart ever been so heavy,
that you feel as though you can’t breathe,
that with every beat it grows in size,
until there’s no more room left in your body,
for anything but its ache,
In the clouds on melted rocks
sipping slow and swirling
I find myself trying on
old habits like new clothing.
The smallest pieces,
the pieces of nostalgia,
wander aimlessly into thoughts
as dark as night
finding non-answers amidst spirit and ice
until morning breaks and all is back
to the way it should be.
Drunken light seeps through
the window panes and
I am new again.
So now we pass into two zero one three;
a land the girl before would not dare to see.
For the foundation of faith shifted, once again,
Due to the idle hands of men.
And I remember
Nestled in the corner
Of his neck
How good he smelled.
A smile, a nod, a promise
I’m fine. But meanwhile
A hurricane rips right through
All ideas are inspired by
things of the past with
no way of making something
A strained inhale to a deep exhale; high dive into the sea of grey.
A heart, a mind, a body, and pocket lay ashen for months.
A question wiggles forward, hiding truth underneath.
Whose dream was I chasing?
Subways and crashing waves and cicadas were the soundtrack
To nights spent under trees and stars and skyscrapers
Where cold hands clutched colder hands
And Instagrammed memories seared onto my soul.
He guided me away from past associations
And led me back to my wild heart
Yet through it all we remained unable to attain
A full sense of each other as one.
And so it went
Ripped apart, a holy day,
Then loose ends tied back together.
Ancient paths lay between us and
Fate’s strings led our swift birth and slow death as
We were created to destroy
Old ties and birth new beginnings and
To take one another to grand heights and new lows.
And though it is true that now
My heart is with another, his arms around one too
I still wonder if I will ever lose this taste
Of my mouth wondering why covenants cannot be broken.
The space between is growing each day.
And no measure of eloquence could be a hand on a hand.
All my stolen glances are ticking away, away, away.
And cobwebs forming in my homes of warmth.
My heart, yearning for reminders of times past.
My dear, distance.